


Bad Things Come In Twos

by linvro21



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bottom Dean, Community: evilsam_spn, Evil Sam Winchester, Language, M/M, Violence, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-12
Updated: 2013-08-12
Packaged: 2017-12-23 05:45:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/922691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linvro21/pseuds/linvro21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The bad-ass brothers Sam and Dean Winchester are infamous for their violence. What the adoring fans and avid haters do not know, is that they hunt things even more evil.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Things Come In Twos

**Author's Note:**

> Notes 1-5: Obviously, it takes a village to raise a writer :) Thanks to ashtraythief for giving me the confidence to write and for giving me Carrie to read, and to kjanddean, viviansface and blackrabbit42 for fangirling and their helpful suggestions! Brilliantly betaed by laurathelurker.
> 
> Note 6: Written for the evilsam_spn Summer Challenge 2013: It's So Easy When You're Evil  
> song number 32: The Little Things - Danny Elfman.
> 
> Note 7: These parts of the story have been heavily quoted and adapted from online newssources and magazines;  
> CNN: FBI steps up hunt for Most Wanted: Sam and Dean Winchester  
> Two Related Cases Of Paranoid Schizophrenia, Narcissistic Personality Disorder And Religious Psychosis  
> Crazy King Tattoos Article Preview for Tattoo Artist Magazine Issue #69  
> Modern day Bonnie and Clyde  
> Scanner audio: Lynnwood Police Department  
> 

Chestnut Barrow was enjoying the afternoon sun while he waited for the bus to come. He was looking forward to visiting his old poker buddy one town over for a good game and some fine whiskey. It had been too long since they yapped about the good old days.

He adjusted his hat to shield his eyes from the low sun, and started to take out a little silver flask from his pocket - he had always taken kindly to the words of W.C. Fields: 'Always carry a flagon of whiskey in case of snakebite, furthermore always carry a small snake' - when he was distracted from his pleasant thoughts by some soft shuffling and panting sounds.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Barrow.” The woman breathed heavily while she sat down on the bench next to him.

He tipped his hat up to see her properly. _Oh great, there goes my peace and quiet._ “Good afternoon, Mrs. Parker.”

“The bus won’t be long now, surely.”

“No, it shouldn’t.”

“Have you, by any chance, heard the news?”

“No, I can’t say I have, Mrs. Parker.” _Please don't tell me._

“Oh alright. My niece Elisabeth came to visit this morning, and she told me, see?”

“Hmm." _I really don't need to know._

“She saw it with her own eyes. She watched these two tall youngsters robbing the liquor store across the street from her beauty parlor – she has a perfectly nice little establishment over on Lake Street – anyways, she looked and saw one of the brutes carrying a large gun into the store. She was very scared of course, especially when she heard the gunshots... Not a moment later they came running out with the money from the register and a crate of Tullamore Dew. What do you think about that?”

 _I think those boys have taste._ “Hmmmm, well...”

“Then they jumped in a black classic car and drove off with tires spinning. Elsi said she heard from the police after, it was a '67 Impala. These kids nowadays, they think they can get away with murder!”

“Yes, no, as you say Mrs. Parker.” _Used to own one of those babies back in the day. Such a sweet ride..._

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m so hungry, I could eat the ass out of a low flying duck.”

“You usually are, Dean. Pull over there, we have to stop for gas first.”

Sam does some lazy stretching while he fills up the tank, and Dean is flipping through a magazine in the small convenience store. They walk up to the grimy counter together. After some time a grumpy old man wearing a 'Cow you doing?' cap comes to the register.

“That’ll be $25 for gas and $6.99 for the snacks, making a total of $31.99.”

“Dean, you got snacks? Five miles from a place where we can eat an actual meal, and you have to get jerky and chocolate pudding pie now?”

“Thanks for your input, Dr. Oz.”

“Fellas, $31.99?”

“How ‘bout you give us this stuff for free and the cash from the till too?” Sam says while pulling out a sawed-off shotgun from under his coat.

The old guy starts to shake and runs out the back door, leaving his dirty cap somewhere lying on the floor.

“Well, thanks old-timer! I _will_ help myself," Sam yells after him.

Sam opens the register over the counter and grabs the big bills, while Dean gets his snacks and starts for the car.

“Come on Sammy, some of that running would be good now,” Dean shouts while he jumps behind the wheel and pulls out of the gasstation. But Sam is nowhere to be seen. A big lump of worry sets in his gut.

KABOOOOM.

Dean turns around in his seat to see the gas station go up in a big orange ball of flames. Seconds later, Sam gets in the car with a ferocious grin on his face. He throws the still smoking bazooka in the backseat. They speed away, wheels spinning in the dirt.

“Dude! Did you have to go all Boyd Crowder on them?"

“As Nietzsche so wisely stated: _You have your way. I have my way,_ ” Sam says.

“Yeah, yeah, showoff. This sucks ass. Now we'll have to keep on driving,” Dean mopes. “Knew the snacks were a good idea.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**CNN: FBI steps up hunt for Most Wanted: Sam and Dean Winchester**

In New York's Times Square a billboard is showing the FBI's new push to finding two of their most wanted fugitives: brothers Sam and Dean Winchester; linked to nineteen deaths and having eluded authorities since 2005. They are said to be the inspiration for Jason Statham's role in the movie Crank: “I wonder how many steaks I could make out of you?”

The FBI says it's gotten thousands of leads throughout the years, but to no avail. And, now that the Winchesters appear to be stepping up their criminal activities, the agency says it's time to re-shift its focus onto locating the Winchesters' sixty-two year old alleged accomplice and caretaker, Robert 'Bobby' Singer. These photos of Singer are from the early nineteen nineties, he is said to have changed his appearance by growing a beard since. He is also wanted for allegedly harboring Garth Fitzgerald IV, another fugitive on the FBI's Ten Most Wanted list. In addition to the billboards, the FBI is running television ads during the daytime in US cities, where the men are believed to have links. They're hoping someone will recognize Singer.

The appointed FBI representative had this to say: “We feel - as a task force and as an agency - that it is a good time to focus on him, and really target the audience - the daytime audience - that will give us those tips and leads, and really specific tips on him which will connect to them.”

And the FBI is hoping money will bring them a lead – it's offering one million dollars for information leading to each Winchester brother's arrest; one hundred thousand dollars for information leading to Singer.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“OK, I'm Sam and you're Dean.”

“You were Sam last time. I'm Sam. You be Dean!”

“But I am way taller than you are!”

“Are not!”

“Am too!”

“But it's my stick gun, so I get to choose!”

“No, you don't!”

“Yes, I do!”

“Midget!”

“Doodoo head!”

“Boys! How many times do I have to tell you that you aren't allowed to play violent games on the playground? Now throw away that branch and go and play nice.”

“Yes, Miss Wormwood.“

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Two beers, please,” Dean says when they sit down at the bar.

It's been a long fucking day. The bar is mostly quiet, the muted TV is showing some local talk show.

“Hey bro, what you think about them guys?” the guy sitting four stools over slurs to his neighbor as he points to the TV.

Dean looks up and sees they're showing some really awful police sketches that are supposed to be him and Sam.

“Well brother-man, I think they're evil fucking psycho killers, that's what I think,” the other guy says while he downs his beer. They – no doubt – have been drinking here for awhile.

“Yes, I think you're right, bro. No matter how shitty your life is, murder is just plain uncool.”

“Dean,” Sam whispers as he puts his hand on Dean's arm to stop him from getting up from his stool. “It's no use.”

Dean walks over to the two guys anyway.

“Hello gentlemen, I couldn't help but overhear your little conversation just now. Mind if I join in? Ted Bundy,” he says with his hand outstretched. “So, what are your thoughts on those two rascals?” he asks while he nudges his head towards the TV.

“As I just said to my bro over here, those guys are clearly crazy for killing all those folks. Look at us... we're brothers, we're pissed at the world, but you don't see us going on a killing spree through the whole damn U S of A.”

“I see how you could think that,” Dean says with a condescending smile. “But you're just plain wrong. Because they are actually awesome. Did you ever stop to think with your puny brain that those bozos might have had it coming?”

“No way, you can never justify killing a man. Never. You have to face your demons another way. Like us; we pray, we drink, we beat someone up when it comes to it, but we sure as hell don't kill.”

“You probably also disagree with me then, about their right to be extremely annoyed for never getting so much as a 'thank you' for ridding the world of some evil sons of bitches?”

“Yep. Wait, evil sons of wha-?”

“That's an interesting take on life you have there. So you're saying that if someone came in here and tried to kill your brother, you'd be fine with that? You wouldn't wanna kill the dickhead before he ganked your family? And when they (Dean points to the TV) came in and saved your sorry asses, you'd call the cops on them?”

“What? You're saying I'm a coward? I'm no use in defending my own family?” The talkative brother stands up from his seat, the other one quickly follows. They're swaying a little on their feet.

“Yes,” Dean says. “I'm saying you're fucking pussies for letting other people clean up the garbage, and then sit here and judge and complain about them doing so!”

One of the two drunk brothers takes a swing at Dean. He just steps aside. The blow hits the other brother in the nose. Dean puts his hands on both of their necks and hits their heads together, then he walks back over to Sam. “Let's get outta here.”

Sam wraps his arm around Dean's shoulder from behind, and tugs him in a hug. “I'll take crazy over stupid any day.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Two Related Cases Of Paranoid Schizophrenia, Narcissistic Personality Disorder And Religious Psychosis.**  
Dr. E. Cartwright and Dr. A. Fuller  
Glenwood Springs Psychiatric Hospital

 _Excerpt from the psychiatric report:_  
“The personality disorder displayed by these two brothers is presented through a narcissistic pleasure in lying and deception. They don't lie to everybody, only to those people (good-bad, strong-weak, females, strangers, authority figures) that they have differentiated as worthwhile or not. They always identify themselves with the aggressor or with evil - as powerful, bad, and ideal. They are shown to have fantasies or interests about animal predators and archetypal evil demigods.

Their inverted conscience means that their superego idealizes evil. Things that would normally produce guilt, insecurity, and anticipation of punishment in ordinary people, produce feelings of self-esteem, security, and self-cohesion in these two personality disordered individuals. They only experience a sense of being true to their real self when they are persecuting others, inducing pain and suffering, and further experiencing feedback about how much malicious destruction they have done. These two subjects show the signs of psychopaths with the highest degree of inverted conscience.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Late in the evening they drive up to a place called Honkers. Dean parks the Impala out back under the cover of darkness, just to be sure. Sam half expects scantily clad waitresses and questionable patrons, but the establishment turns out to be family friendly and – overly – duck-themed. Upon walking in, he catches a glimpse of the cook groping a cute, red-headed waitress in the kitchen. She is still straightening her clothes when she comes over to take their order.

“Hi, I'm Jamie-Lee, and I'll be your waitress tonight. What can I get you?” she asks with a bright – probably faked – smile.

“I'll have the extra large Duck-burger and a beer,” Dean says with the kindest smile he can manage at this hour of the day.

“And for me the all-you-can-eat wings, large fries and a beer.”

“I'm truly sorry, we're all out of wings.”

“Don't worry Sammy, the wings here are not all they're quacked up to be,” Dean says with a stupid grin on his face. “Come on, think of something else to eat, just wing it.” He's chuckling now.

“I'm not in the mood for your stupid jokes,” Sam says while he fists Dean's shirt over the table.

The girl looks at them with wide eyes.

“Alright, alright, don't get your feathers in a fluff.”

“Duck you!”

 

After some time the waitress brings over their long overdue dinners and well deserved beers. Sam starts biting angrily at his fries, but stops abruptly. “These are fucking cold! That cook is so dead!” he spits out and starts to get up.

Dean holds him down at the shoulder. “Dude, relax. I'm eating here.”

Sam reluctantly sits and starts eating his – luckily warm – burger, because he still is actually very hungry. After he swallows his last bite he gets up, picks up his chair, and throws it through the large window with two duck heads painted on it. Dean looks up at him, the bottle of beer still to his smiling lips.

The cook storms out of the kitchen yelling at him, “Hey fucker! What the hell do you think you're doing to my diner!”

Sam walks up to him while he picks up a solid wooden serving tray with – of course – ducks on it. The friendly waitress has a shocked look on her face, and backs up behind the counter. Dean raises his eyebrows at the girl, then winks at her.

Sam decks the cook hard with the tray in the face, while he walks past him to the register. It reminds Dean of the scene from that kick-ass movie Wanted where that guy hit the other guy in the face with a keyboard.

”Asshole, you shoulda ducked”, Sam mutters and gets the money out. Then to Dean, “What? You were done eating, weren't you?”

Dean smiles and says, “Feel better now, Bruce?”

“Yes Betty, I actually do.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_< 3 <3 blogtime by Jamie-lee <3 <3_

hi blogpeoples!

guess what? something exciting FINALLY happened in my booooooooring town. these two guys came into the diner and the real pretty one started flirting with lil old me *swoon* he was wearing tight jeans and a really cool and worn leather jacket and when he took it of i saw *wait for it* a tight black tshirt and a TATTOO on his ripped arm!!!!!! it said something like mother on it with a rose above sooooo sweet!!! and he also had a tatt on his fingers F A T E i didnt catch his name and no phone number :( but i did get a wink!!! he was totally into me!!!!!! o yeah and this guy he was with he was called bruce. big strong angry giant in blue plaid who wears plaid anymore? well he got very pissed at my boss for some reason he decked my boss!!!!! and called him an asshole. i liked it cause he really is

love JL

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They drive slowly through a little shithole of a town looking for some guy who might or might not be something that should have stayed south of the hell border.

“Hey, Sam. Look at that woman over there,” Dean says in a hushed voice.

“What?”

Dean gestures across his chest. “Her t-shirt, dude.”

“No way.”

“Way.”

“ _Mrs. Sam Winchester_. You should ask her where she got if from, Dean,” Sam says teasingly.

“Says the one with the manly hairdo.”

“Do you think they sell his and hers mugs too?”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Crazy King Tattoos Article Preview for Tattoo Artist Magazine Issue #69**  
 _Interview by Matt Bomer_

 _Let's start with something positive. Describe your perfect customer for us..._  
It would be someone who trusts you to know what you're doing. I like it when the customer has some sort of idea of what to get, when they come to me. Not just the usual from the book, or they saw on some celebrity. It doesn't happen too often, but sometimes a customer will ask me to change my design. And then I think: “Fuck you”. But then it turns out better than my original design was.

 _(Laughs) That’s so great._  
So I said that to this guy who came in the other day. He wanted a rose and mother on his arm. And the guy’s like, “No offense, I just personally don't want the yellow in the center coil of the rose, I’d like it to be open.” It turned out great. And I was like, “Because of you I’m never going to do yellow in the center of a rose again. Thanks for having the balls to tell me that that’s not what you like.”

 _What was the story with that?_  
It's funny when a real tough guy like that comes in for such a sweet old-school tat. You know he looks like he's been around the block. And the guy he's with is like, “You're such a sap”. I could tell they'd been together for a long time. Had matching tattoos and all. And then he just said, “I've seen enough fucking yellow to last me a lifetime.” Tattoos mostly deal with memories you know. Good or bad. Customers more often than not come here for some kind of closure.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, I found out what we're supposed to be hunting.”

“No need for research, I already told ya. It's a Shtriga, clean and simple. Let's go gank it.”

“Actually Dean, it is not a Shtriga. We're dealing with a Mare or Nightmare. It's also a life-sucker, but it only targets children and it gives them terrifying nightmares in return. After a few visits they're done for. ”

“Same difference,” says Dean. “That's what the Shtriga in Wisconsin did too. So, let's hit the road.”

“OK, but this one is extra special. It can transfer its conscience into any animal that's asleep. Plus it rides a horse. And it sort of likes to play hairdressers with the kids it feeds on.”

“Wai... What?”

“It braids the kids hair into curls, actually it does with gardenplants too. That's how I know it's a Mare and not a Shtriga. And that's how we're gonna find the bitch and kill her.”

“How are we gonna kill her? Can _I_ kill her? Can I Sammy?” Dean said in a whiny toddler's voice.

“She's a Mora witch. The lore says to cut off her head and burn her at the stake.”

“Sounds peachy to me. So now what, we're driving through town and admiring the local foliage?”

“Yes.”

“OK, let's do this.”

 

They wait in the dark outside of a large pink house with an unusual amount of curly plants and twisted trees in the garden. Around two am, they hear a horse coming down the road. On closer inspection it's carrying a man.

“Well, fuck me running,” Dean says. “Surprise, it's a boy.”

The witch halts the horse underneath a bedroom window and climbs in. Dean and Sam get out of the car and walk quietly up the garden path.

“OK, you get up on the horse and climb in,” Sam whispers.

“No way dude, I am not a one man circus act. You do it,” Dean says a bit too loud. He pushes the horse over to Sam.

At that moment the Mare looks out of the window and sees them standing there. He jumps out, misses the horse, and lands feet first on the pavement. They hear his leg break with a snap. The open wound starts to bleed profusely.

“Well, that was easy,” Dean smirks. “Special delivery of Mare, with extra ketchup.” He walks over to the unconscious man with his axe ready.

“Dean, look out!” Sam yells. A silvery strand escapes from the witch's mouth. It disappears into the low shrubbery.

“Fucking hell, now what?”

“Hurry Dean, we have to find the animal he transferred in to. Kill anything you find!”

They slay several slugs, a beetle, and some woodlice, but they can't seem to find the Mare's essence. When Dean chops the head off a frog, the glisteny stuff escapes and flows back to its human host. Sam quickly beheads the Mare after that.

“Dude, that was creepy,” Dean says. “But fun too. Let's build us a bonfire and fry Kermit right up!”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Matilda, what did you do to your hair?”

“But mommy, I didn't do anything. It was the man.”

“A man? What man?”

“The man that braided my hair. It wasn't my fault mommy, I was sleeping. And then I woke up and he jumped out of the window. And these two other men were outside and they chopped his head off. And there was a horse.”

“Young lady, I won't have you lying to me. You know you're not supposed to play at my vanity table. Go to your room!”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“OK, testing one, two, three. Shit. Well, here goes...

Hello Garth. I'm recording this in case I, you know, don't get to tell you this in person - you should really remeber to charge your phone sometimes.

I'm not easily spooked - ha, no pun intended - but now with the FBI and all on my case, I started to think what would happen to the boys when I'm not around anymore. I'd like you to keep an eye on them, in case I get arrested or... die 'or something'. Not planning on it, but you never know when you'll kick the bucket, do you?

Let me tell you the most important things about them first. I love them idjits, in spite of them being immature asses most of the time.

They have lots of love for each other too, look out for each other. You'd think it's mostly Dean doing the looking out part, but Sam knows him very well. One couldn't do without the other.

They're always ready to fight the crawly things in the dark. I'd like to think I helped them become better people and hunters, better than their own father could. He wasn't around much. Always on the hunt.

These boys are extremely talented, built for the job. Sam's the bigger brain of them two; loves hitting the books and doing research. Dean's the grunt; very instinctive about hunting, comes up with the strategies for combat. He thinks he's funny as hell, just ignore him when he starts making porn references or something. They're a good team when they’re not arguing their asses off.

Well, that's the boys for the most part. Now it's time to get something to eat. Oh yeah, you know this is Bobby, right?”

 

But sometimes... he wonders. Preferably he doesn't think too long or hard about it, doesn’t like to follow that line of thought. It’s just gonna give him a headache. And yet...

He thinks about the boys some more while he heats up beans from a can. He’s only recorded the positive part of the story, but the reality of it is that Sam and Dean are like night and... night.

Better not to blabber on about the bad stuff to Garth. He doesn’t mean the boys are the cookie stealing, jaywalking kind of bad, but more of a destroying property and killing folks kind of bad.

Not all bad. But mostly. Especially Sam.

There's just something in him, something dark. Sometimes he thinks there really was some trace of evil left in Sam by the demon’s blood.

He tried to be their moral compass, to steer their violent tendencies towards killing evil. He pushed them in the right direction, and he’s proud that they've never killed a human being... that he knows of. With all that anger, violence, and destruction, their boundaries have always been more... hazy than his.

He taught them to cover their tracks, to stay undetected. Fat lot of good that did.

When they were younger he was a bigger influence on them. They actually listened to him. But now they know he’s getting older, and they sometimes take advantage of that.

Not that they'll let him know about any of that stuff. Just sometimes bits of news come to him that have their name on it. He guesses, he just has to call them some more, remind them of what's right and wrong.

What they really need is a safe home. He hopes that when it comes to it, Garth doesn't lose their trust. If that happens, all bets are off.

  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I know [Umbridge] by reputation and I'm sure she's no Death Eater-"

"She's foul enough to be one..."

"Yes, but the world isn't split into good people and Death Eaters.”

 

– _J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix_

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's been a rough night of mostly driving when Sam's phone rings.

“Hi Bobby.” … “Hmmm, yeah.” … “OK, we'll get it for you.” … “Hah, I'll tell him.”

“What he say?” Dean asks.

“We got to get some ring for him.”

“He proposing to the sheriff?” Dean asks with a knowing look.

Sam lets out a deep sigh and continues. “It's European, used to belong to the Lady of Stavoren. Gold with a heart shaped ruby. It's bad news for greedy folks. He wants to use it against Crowley.”

“So, we're gonna Point Break-it then?”

“Yeah, I guess. Oh, and he said to tell you we're sorta famous now for my bazooka trick in Klamath Falls,” Sam says with a smug grin.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_Article from The Daily Globe, Shelby, Ohio._  
 **Modern day Bonnie and Clyde**  
By J. Barrowman

The two fugitives at the center of this story are leaving police and the public outraged with their contempt for the law.

Just like their predecessors, America's modern day Bonnie and Clyde are partners in crime and – according to popular believe – star-crossed lovers. Dean Winchester and his younger brother Sam have left a trail of havoc across the better part the Northwest: fraud, theft, destruction of property, robbery and even murder.

Nothing stands in the way of their crime spree - not even the police.

Dean's ex-girlfriend Lisa Braeden says she desperately tried everything to keep him out of trouble, but is adamant Sam is the bad influence. “Dean is not the machine gun-wielding cartoon killer portrayed in the newspapers!” she said to this reporter.

While Sam seems to be the actual killer of the two, Dean's reputation as a cigar-smoking gun moll grew out of a blurry snapshot found by police at an abandoned hideout, released to the press, and published nationwide.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Next time, I get to pick the motel,” Dean complains. “It has weeds growing on the roof, for fuck's sake. And what's up with the tiny round windows and this shitty wooden furniture? _I_ can build better fucking furniture than this!”

“Dean, don't get your panties in a twist. It's too hot for this shit.” Sam takes his lukewarm beer and one of the rickety-ass chairs outside to the little porch. He takes off his shirt, sits down in the relative shade and flips open his laptop to do some research.

“Hey Sam?” Dean is undressing while he's standing in the doorway, “I think we're more like Jesse and Frank James.”

“Hm, I kinda liked that we got compared to Mickey and Mallory in that item on TV, you know?”

“You're totally the Mallory here,” Dean says while he makes a buck naked escape. “Am just gonna take a shower!” he yells from inside the hut.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Author** : chocolate_moose  
 **Title** : Hot And Wet  
 **Word Count** : ~ 600  
 **Pairing** : Dean/Sam  
 **Rating** : NC-17  
 **Genre** : RPF non-AU  
 **Summary** : A shower on a hot day is just what they need.  
 **Warnings** : Wincest, barebacking, language, role playing.  
 **Disclaimer** : The bad bros are sadly not mine. If they were, I would have joined them instead of writing about them.  
 **Author’s Notes** : I was inspired by some events at work today... Thanks to non_smoker for the quick beta!

 

“I'm hot,” Dean complains to his younger brother.

Sam is sitting in the shade of the only tree in the parking lot. He looks over to Dean from under his cowboy hat. He thinks that Dean really doesn't have to say that he's hot. He has eyes, you know. “Dean, I know. I'm hot too.”

“Wanna cool off together?” Dean asks with a not-so innocent look on his face. He walks over to Sam and nudges his brother's muscular thigh with his dirty boot. “Come on Sammy, it'll be fun. Just like old times!”

Sam groans when he stands up. “OK.”

“Race ya to the shower!” Dean yells.

Sam walks barefoot into the motel room to find Dean's discarded clothes on the floor. He takes off his shirt and jeans as well, but keeps his hat in place for now.

“Sammy! You coming?”

Sam opens the door to the small bathroom. He can see the outline of Dean's well-built body through the translucent shower curtain. His dick takes a sudden interest. “Howdy there, Jesse,” he says.

Dean peeks his surprised head around the edge of the shower curtain. “Well, hello there cowboy. Why don't ya come in for some coolin' down? Or should I say, some heatin' up?”

Sam steps into the small shower cubicle with his brother, his cock already hard in anticipation. He places the hat on Dean's head, slightly crooked. Just right.

“Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?” Dean drawls.

Sam takes Dean's head in his big hands and kisses him firmly on the plush red lips. Dean tries to get in another snarky cowboy remark, but is hushed by the ferocious attack on his mouth. He kisses back and plunges his tongue into Sam's receiving mouth. Sam's hands roam all over Dean's body, stilling at his rounded ass. He squeezes hard.

“Want you on the bed,” Sam says as he picks up Dean's naked body and hoists him over his strong shoulder. The cowboy hat falls to the wet bathroom floor.

“Yippy kay-yee motherfucker!” Dean calls out.

Sam slaps him on his naked ass and dumps him on the nearest bed.

“No need to threaten me with your weapon cowboy, I will do whatever you want.” Dean says with a smirk.

Sam's body is still glistening with drops of water that keep falling from his long hair. He crawls up between Dean's legs and spreads them wide. He shakes his head and it rains down on Dean's abs and proud red cock. Then he reaches under the pillow to get the lube. He slicks Dean's hole with it and pushes a finger in.

“Oh fuck yeah, so good Sammy,” Dean moans.

“You're gonna need some preppin', cause this cowboy is hung like a horse,” Sam says in a husky voice. He quickly adds a second and a third finger.

Dean is wriggling his body under the larger man. “Come on cowboy, what's taking so long?” Dean says as he tugs down Sam's strong body. He locks his hands behind Sam's lower back and pulls him closer. “I want you now.”

Sam pushes in with a long stroke, sending Dean gasping for air.

“Yes, yes, YES! That's what I need Sammy!”

Sam thrusts in and out of Dean's puckered hole at a demanding pace. The sounds between them get louder and louder: the slapping of balls against skin, the wet sloppy kisses, the moans and grunts, until...

“Dean? I... I'm coming Dean!”

“Me too Sammy. Me too!”

They lay still for a moment. And then they start to notice the heat again.

“Looks like we need another shower Sammy,” Dean says with a sparkle in his eye.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There's always some kind of current or excitement present in the car when they drive to a heist; the anticipation of the job making them a bit edgy. Sam usually tries to relax by staring out the window and going over the plan in his head. Listening to some music seems to do the trick for Dean.

“Hey little one, listen to this. They wrote a song about us,” Dean says while he cranks up the radio. The drums and bass burst into the car, then the guitars kick in...

_Have you heard the news?_  
 _Bad things come in twos._  
 _But I never knew,_  
 _'Bout the little things._

_Every single day,_  
 _Things get in my way._  
 _Someone has to pay,_  
 _For the little things._

“I like it,” Sam says. “Maybe next they'll do _Sam And Dean: The Movie_. I want Joe Manganiello to play me.”

“It'll be _Dean And His Brother: The Movie_ , you ass! They better have big bucks ready for all your massive explosions,” Dean says while he rocks his head back and forth to the slamming beat.

_And I'm through with repairs,_  
 _When there's nothing to fix,_  
 _When there's nothing to fix,_  
 _When there's nothing to fix,_  
 _And it all comes down to you._

They slow down and pull up to the curb in front of Duvel's Pawn Shop.

“You take the holy oil, I'll get the flamethrower,” Sam says.

Dean smiles. “How about we kill some evil sons of bitches and we raise a little hell?”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Boys, boys, you make me so proud and I can't wait to have you down here with me.

I can see the pleasure on your faces when you're doing your so called righteous work: killing bad thingies as if it were a sport. Shouldn't be too long now, before one of you trips and falls and oopsie, misplaces a dagger into some human body. Or did you already? The lines, they are a-changing.

For now, I'll just wait and watch – maybe nudge you a little – but I just know we're going to have lots of fun together.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You'll never guess what happened to us yesterday!”

“We were just walking a bit and then I was like: Look Jer, see that car? That's the same kind of car as those brothers who are all over the news drive! Squee!”

“And I was all like: Oh my god Kel! And I started to cross the street to have a closer look. And girlfriend over here was like: No! Don't! Seriously! They are supposed to be dangerous and all.”

“No Jer, I didn't! You make me sound all scared.”

“And then I said all cool like: I know, but they're also supposed to be hot and all. I'm just gonna peak in the window.”

“And then we decided to walk over together. Like arm in arm.”

“But after looking in, we were still not sure.”

“Then I was like: Let's wait here on the curb awhile, maybe they'll show up.”

“And then we heard the...”

“Shhh, I was gonna tell that part! We totally heard gunshots! Seriously! Actual gunshots in our little town!”

“And it scared the bejesus out of us.”

“Then Sam and Dean came running out of the store. Looking all tough and cute like; Sam with the gun and Dean with a crate full of booze.”

“And we we were like: Oh my god! It's them! It really is them! And we jumped in front of them to get autographs.”

“And Dean was all nice and flirty and he said to me: 'Sorry, hon. Got my hands full.'”

“But Sam was all grumpy and he was like: 'Really? You're actually considering this?'”

“And then Dean was like: 'Hey, we're famous. It goes with the territory.'”

“And Sam said: 'Get your notorious butt behind the wheel right now, oh glorious one.'”

“And they drove off with spinning tires. Seriously, I think I'm gonna die! Sigh!”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Scanner audio: Lynnwood Police Department**

 _Car 2L3_ : “Two Lincoln three. In pursuit of a Black Chevy Impala, plates November, Kilo, eight, zero, Quebec, three. He's riding northbound on Lake. Five ten.”

 _Dispatch_ : “Two Lincoln three, subject is speeding northbound on Lake, copy.”

 _Car 2L3_ : “Two Lincoln three. I'm in pursuit, copy. Lake and the highway. Requesting back-up.”

 _Dispatch_ : “Two Lincoln three in pursuit. Code three. Northbound on Lake. High speed. Passing highway. Request for back-up, copy.”

 _Car 2L2_ : “Two Lincoln two. Headed over there now.”

 _Dispatch_ : “Two Lincoln two, copy.”

 _Car 2L3_ : “Two Lincoln three. Be advised, high speed right now. If you could start running that plate for me, that would be great.”

 _Dispatch_ : “We have a match. Winchester, Dean. Be advised, vehicle involved in two one one. Possibly two suspects. State police are sending a couple of units as well.”

 _Car 2L3_ : “Subjects armed and dangerous. Ten four. … Oh shit. That's those brothers from the news! He's hitting the brakes! He's cutting over Lake. … heading right over to Ocean.”

 _Car 2L2_ : “Where you guys at?”

 _Car 2L3_ : “He's turning back around. … He's coming back over. Taking a right on Country Way.”

 _Car 2L2_ : “What's your ten twenty?”

 _Car 2L3_ : “West, towards, sorry excuse me... We're headed back down Country Way toward Ocean Street, Kristen. … Heading back to Winslow Street. Winslow towards Ocean. … Guy just blew the red light, still westbound. … Blueberry road. … Southbound no, past the roadhouse, picking up speed. Have a dog standing by too, they might try to bail.”

 _Dispatch_ : “K9 unit, copy.”

 _Car 2L3_ : “He just went... Turn around! … Lost 'em. We could try to do another loop again, head towards Ocean..."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Somewhere along a quiet back road.

“Saw this Tommy Gun at the pawn shop, thought you might like it,” Sam says with a shy look in his eyes. “For my wheelman...” He presents the antique submachine gun to Dean like it's a bunch of flowers.

“Aw honey, you shouldn't have...”


End file.
